


Supernatural Wincest Special

by CatJetRat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatJetRat/pseuds/CatJetRat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Very Supernatural Christmas coda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernatural Wincest Special

Words failed Sam as he gazed at his brother. His obnoxious, loud, protective big brother, who would do anything for him. Who would sell his soul for him. 

Sam carefully set down his eggnog and took Dean’s from him, then pulled him until he too was sitting on the couch.

“Sam, what—”

Sam cut him off by rolling over and straddling Dean’s lap, turning his face up and kissing him. He sort of expected Dean to push him away, and when he didn’t, wondered why he’d thought so. His big brother had always been terrible about refusing him. Dean wasn’t all that enthusiastic in returning the kiss, but he still did.

Sam had no idea why he was doing this. He wasn’t attracted to his brother, had never even been attracted to men in general. Even now, the feeling of Dean’s body beneath his was unfamiliar, and not a huge turn on. But it was Dean. It was just…he, they, could never say what they felt towards each other. They weren’t raised like that, and, even if they had been, too much shit had gone down between them for it to make sense. So Sam kissed his brother, and poured all of his emotion into it. 

Eventually, Dean sort of realized what was happening, because he spoke Sam, he got Sam, and that had always been. He kissed back with more vigor once he understood, and Sam knew that if his brother might not be dying in six months, he wouldn’t be doing this. This wasn’t about sex, or attraction, this was about them. About the fact that neither of them could live without each other, and, even if Dean did die, Sam could never be with anyone else. He’d come close with Jess, but then Jess had died, and with her, any slight chance he had at a normal life. At loving someone almost as much as he loved Dean, enough, at least, to have a life without him. But now all he had was Dean, beneath him, around him, consuming him, and it made sense in a way, even if he didn’t really want to, wasn’t attracted to men or turned on by them, this was Dean, and all of that emotion overcame that block.

So Sam kissed his brother. Fucked his brother. And in the aftermath, curled around each other, knew that there was no coming back from this. But that was the point. Because now, now Sam couldn’t let his brother die. He couldn’t bear it, and he might have been able to before. It hadn’t been about sex. It had been about doing what he needed to do to save him. Dean would do anything for his brother. And now Sam would do anything for Dean.

“Merry Christmas, big brother,” he murmured. Dean looked at him, eyes glittering, and Sam hoped desperately that he hadn’t broken him. 

Then Dean smiled, that cocky, ridiculous smile, the one that meant everything was okay, not the one like before, that had just pretended to be okay.

“Merry Christmas, little bro.”


End file.
